


Ancient History

by Operator Yaku (TheHonkmaster)



Series: Infestation Series [8]
Category: Warframe
Genre: Mild Gore, Needles, brief descriptions of torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-18
Updated: 2018-02-18
Packaged: 2019-03-20 16:52:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,019
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13721964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheHonkmaster/pseuds/Operator%20Yaku





	Ancient History

The last person Yaku’ expected to see patrolling the Grineer base on Earth was their cousin.

——————————————————————————————

**Before the Zariman.**

Yaku’ stared up at the person kneeling in front of them. Sinne Tatema, clothed in their military uniform, patted them on the shoulders. “Stay safe now,  _shahat-titi._ I expect to see you as soon as I get promoted, okay?”

“Okay!” the child replied. They wiggled happily in their wheelchair and stretched their arms out towards their cousin. “Hugs!” they demanded.

Sinne laughed and obliged, wrapping their long arms around their tiny cousin. “Don’t get into any trouble before I get there, and don’t start walking until then, either. I don’t want to miss your big day!”

Yaku’ gave an exaggerated pout and crossed their arms. “ _Ah’ah_ told me that I won’t be able to get my cong– cogniv– coginive–”

“Cognitive relay.” Their father, Vendry, stepped up behind the wheelchair protectively. “Lyaké won’t be able to get their cognitive relay until _after_  we reach Tau and set up a colony. One of the perks of volunteering for the Zariman.”

Sinne stood and rubbed Yaku’’s shaved head affectionately, then began putting their waist-length hair in a bun. The twenty-four-year-old nodded at Vendry; the tension between the two was nearly palpable as they stared at each other, near-black eyes meeting hazel. “I need to get going. I’ll tell Uncle Unan you said your goodbyes, Vendry.”

“Don’t bother,” the man replied. “We haven’t been on good terms.”

“Maybe it’s your blatant disgust for anything to do with the military,” they suggested flatly. Sinne turned to leave without giving Vendry time to respond, disappearing into the crowd. The last thing Yaku’ saw of them was their Ayatan arm as they squeezed between two pilots.

Vendry huffed and began pushing the wheelchair towards the loading docks. He leaned in close and Yaku’ heard his many necklaces tangling together with each step. “The military is a terrible thing, Lyaké. It does nothing but brainwash and kill.”

“Is that why you and Papa don’t love each other anymore,  _Ah’ah?_ Because he likes the military? And what’s ‘brainwashing’?”

“It’s complicated, kiddo. You’ll find out eventually.”

——————————————————————————————

It was the strange armor that first tipped Yaku’ off that this Grineer officer was more than just a clone. Most Grineer creations were rough, almost crude in appearance and as mass-produced as the Grineer themselves; this officer’s armor looked custom-made, even from a distance, and there was something about it that made them pause with their finger hovering over the trigger of their rifle.

It would’ve been an easy shot. Yaku’ was poised above the base in their Equinox frame, high above any snooping Grineer, but even the lowest zoom on their scope would’ve done the trick for a headshot. The assassination mission could’ve been a clean one, in and out in less than an hour, but something about that officer…

They peered through their scope again, zooming in further. Yes, the armor was most certainly custom-made – it bore Orokin inscriptions on the shoulders and the camouflage mixed aesthetic with function in a way that no ordinary Grineer officer would allow. Yaku’ shifted uneasily; who was this person?

They moved their scope to peer at the other Grineer in the officer’s squadron. All wore masks, which wasn’t an unusual occurence in itself, but their armor bore the same Orokin inscriptions on the shoulders. Yaku’ read the inscriptions, but found that the word meant nothing to them. 

_“Uhwa… Uhwa? …_ Shatha, can you patch me into their comms?” they whispered, creeping along the arch.

“One moment, Operator,” the Cephalon replied. While they waited, Yaku’ examined the weapons the Grineer wielded. Nothing out of the ordinary, except… they all bore the same inscriptions as the armor. Yaku’ looked away from their scope and stared down at the Grineer.

“What… Shatha, do you recognize the Orokin writing?”

“Unfortunately I do not, Operator. While the Orokin script is recorded and can be translated, those specific inscriptions are not available in any archive or other database I have access to nor do they appear on any untranslated Orokin artifacts.”

“Huh. What’s the status on the comms?”

“Progress is at ninety-seven percent, Operator. Thirty seconds until completion.”

Yaku’ spent those thirty seconds poring over every possible translation of the word they could think of. It struck a chord in their memory; they  _knew_ they’d seen it before, but the “when” and “where” of it escaped them. 

As the static pop of connecting comms filled their ears they settled into a crouch and continued watching the Grineer below. The first few words filtered through and Yaku’ frowned inside their somatic link. “This isn’t Grineer.”

“No, Operator,” Shatha replied. “It is not Grineer, nor Corpus, nor even Orokin. It is not any widely-spoken language or dialect in the system.”

The language contained few sibilant consonants; it was filled with hard sounds and long vowels, glottal stops and–

_Glottal stops._

Yaku’ nearly fell off their perch in shock, catching themself before they tumbled to the forest floor below. They clung to the thick vines supporting them and forced their voice to a harsh whisper. “Shatha. Shatha!” they hissed. “This is Hasinai.  _Hasinai!_ Wh– This language, it– I don’t understand, I was the only one who survived and now it’s just me and Naki– Shatha, I’m gonna lose my shit.”

“You are still on a mission, Operator!” the Cephalon reminded them. “You cannot let this distract you!”

“Something is wrong here, I can’t kill this officer. They’re speaking  _Hasinai,_ Shatha. I haven’t heard full sentences like that since before the Zariman accident.” They knelt and lifted their sniper rifle again, zooming in fully on the officer’s face. The squadron was taking a short break and the Grineer lounged on rocks and fallen logs, gradually pulling off their masks one by one. Each face was familiar in a way they couldn’t pin down; each face was mottled and decaying from the cloning process, but somehow still more refined than other foot soldiers.

“Come on, take off your mask,” they urged the officer through clenched teeth. “Let me see who you are. I need to know. Oh, yes, here we go!” Yaku’ said with a grin, their heart pounding against their ribcage and their pulse thundering in their ears. They’d started sparking from anticipation as the officer glanced around them twice and checked with their squadron to ensure that no other Grineer were around. 

The officer sat slowly, beginning to undo the clasps holding the mask on their face. They turned and pulled it away, obscuring their face briefly before they came back into view; the sight froze Yaku’ to the spot.

“No way… This… is impossible,” they breathed. “This can’t be possible. Shatha… Take a picture and run it through any Orokin database you can access. Come on, Grineer, just… pull off your hood.”

The officer obeyed as if they heard the Tenno up above. Rich brown hair spilled out of the hood, tumbling from its bun to end at the Grineer’s waist. An Ayatan prosthetic replaced the lower right half of their jaw. A proud nose sat between eyes so dark they were almost black. Cephalon Shatha spoke through their comms. “The only possible match is one Lieutenant Sinne Tatema, Orokin military – before the Old War.”

Yaku’  _screamed._

The sound alerted the Grineer below and fifteen heads swung to look at the Equinox high above. The Grineer officer – Sinne – lunged for their mask as Yaku’ leapt off their perch; the frame landed heavily and Yaku’ transferred out of their frame, still screaming, to tackle Sinne.

_“Shahat!”_ they yelled, pinning their cousin to the ground. Sinne stared at the Tenno sitting on top of them with wide eyes; the sudden appearance had stunned the larger Caddo into silence and they opened and closed their mouth, looking very similar to a fish, before they finally regained their words.

“Who–” they started, before looking at their squadron. _“Cha-a’! Cudi’dayut!”_ they shouted, ordering the clones to back away.

“It’s me! Your cousin, Lyaké!  _Shahat-titi!”_

“Lyaké!?” Sinne sat up abruptly and Yaku’ toppled off of them. “How are you– You’re a Tenno!?” they asked, their gaze flicking between the Equinox and Yaku’.

“And you’re Grineer! Why!?  _How!?”_

“It’s… a long story. I can’t tell you here. Let’s move; there are too many eyes and ears.” Sinne clambered to their feet and grabbed Yaku’‘s arm, pulling them towards a tunnel. 

The larger Caddo sealed a door behind them and collapsed to their knees. “Holy stars,” they murmured, holding their head in their hands, “I never thought I’d see my family again. After Aaru died, I just– I gave up hope. How long have you been… here?”

“Millennia, Sinne. I’ve been piloting a Warframe since the Old War. How have you survived so long?”

Sinne laughed – a short, humorless noise – and combed their fingers through their long hair. “You can thank the Queens for that and yes, I mean the Twin Queens, the Grineer Queens, those Queens. Certain military personnel were placed in cryosleep right before the Old War, to preserve our minds and bodies against the Infestation if it got out of hand.”

“It did.”

“I’m aware. They let my family go into cryosleep first – Seshafi, Aunt Tana, Aaru and our kids – and I went in after they were safe. When I woke up – when the  _Grineer_ woke me up – they were… dead,” Sinne whispered, staring blankly at the ground as their mind replayed the memory.

“…Sinne?”

The larger Caddo blinked and looked up. “Wh– Oh, right. Um. The Queens promised me conditional immortality in return for genetic samples for cloning and, as a product of the genetic samples, my own elite unit. I wasn’t ready to die then and for some bizarre reason I thought I still had something to live for, so I agreed. I’ve commanded my own unit for innumerable years. I commissioned a rapier in honor of Aaru; I’m really proud of it. I’d show you, but it’s back in my quarters far from here.”

Sinne looked at their cousin for a moment, noting their clenched fists. “What? You look angry. Did I say something wrong?”

Memories crashed into Yaku’ like waves over a beach: waking to find themself strapped to a crude surgical table. A Grineer spitting its harsh, guttural language in their face. Tsania’dacha with locked joints, idling in some dark hall. A needle sliding into their arm. A scalpel digging into their cheek and tearing away a massive chunk of flesh. Their teeth, ripped from their head one by one and set in a dish.

“…Lyaké?” Sinne reached for their cousin only for Yaku’ to flinch away. They opened their mouth to yell, to scream, to even make a sound, but nothing came out. They scrubbed away the tears streaming down their face with the back of their hand and transferred back into their Equinox. 

“I’m leaving,” they snapped, calling for their Orbiter and storming out of the tunnel.

Sinne watched them go in silence. The Tenno paused and turned back, lifting their sidearm in one fluid movement to aim directly at Sinne’s head. “I should kill you for what you’ve done,” they told them with a shaking voice. “You’re supposed to be a soldier; we all are. Instead you’re a coward. You’re a  _traitor.”_

“Do it, then,” Sinne told them, the larger Caddo’s head tilting to the side. They waved away their squadron; their clones had seen this many times and knew it would end well for Sinne. “What’s stopping you, hm? Why don’t you? You have the power to end it right here and now. My life is literally resting on the tip of your finger; all you have to do is pull the trigger. Are you afraid, Lyaké? Why don’t you just kill me?”

The Equinox’s hand wavered. They had told Huon similar when they first met him and now their own words haunted them. Yaku’ let their arm drop to their side. “You’re all I have left,” they whispered.

“I’ll see you again,  _shahat-titi.”_

Yaku’ glanced at their cousin one last time. “Maybe,” they murmured, and disappeared towards extraction.


End file.
